Viktor Victorious
by Glorioux
Summary: Six years after the battle, Hermione nurses a broken heart in Belgium, and Viktor is there for a game. Two injured hearts, whose love flame hasn't quite died, are about to meet. Love and Past will collide. Two rivals race time to save Hermione. HG/VK?HP
1. Wizard with a broken heart

**Disclaimer: All recognizable events and characters are the product of J.K.R. The epilogue pages were ripped out my book, maybe by my own hand.**

Summary: Viktor and Hermione were almost a couple, but circumstances and _mostly Hermione separated their lives. __Hermione married Ron and Harry, sadly her_ 'boys' party lives, destroyed their family. Six years after the battle, she is working for the Ministry. She has an international assignment at Belgium. It is Valentines and Viktor is there to play a game. Two injured hearts, whose love flame hasn't quite died, are about to experience a very hot rekindle of a fire that still burns

Warnings/Content: Infidelity, miscarriage; verbal abuse and reference of spousal abuse; some Ron bashing, intentional misspelled words to approximate speech accents, a dashing wizard, and grown men in nappies who find them overrated after a millennium. This chapter and others will contain scenes better suited for older readers. The rating M is adequate and reflects the content.

n/A I had a previous version of this work posted here. This is almost twice as long and had numerous revisions. It is all written, I will post twice a week. It has a total of four chapters and close to 13,000 words.

**Chapter 1- A wizard's heartbreak -**

**-Breaking a heart- Bill and Fleur****'****s wedding ****–**** 1997**.

"Here, Hermione, luf, come," Viktor pulled her inside a small darkened room.

The moment the door closed, he picked up where they had left off, just a few weeks before during her visit to Sofia. She had stayed at his apartment, where they spent several days just the two of them doing what they liked most, reading, laughing, talking, and loving. He could still recall the days of hot, slow kisses which held a promise of a future together; warm summer days, when mutual hand pleasuring and private viewings of their bodies, made him believe in their love.

"You come to my hotel room, yes?" His eyelids were heavy with lust, as he urgently pressed his hips against hers, even harder than a moment before; his hands held her head and bum, in order to bring her closer to him. He had waited forever for her, or at least it felt that way; now that she was nearly eighteen his patience was running out. He knew the time of waiting was over, or someone would take her away from him.

"I doubt I can; Harry, Ron, and I, must get ready—,"his lips silenced her mouth; he wanted to show her his desire, albeit his intentions to be seductive and controlled, frustration was the driving force making his kisses fast, furious, and even rough.

"Love, can you feel vat you do to me, just help me. I dream of you for days, and vant to see your pretty snitch, maybe a taste, yes?" his tone was seductive and hopeful.

Once again, he forcefully grounded his hips against hers and both moaned. Hermione was in his thoughts all the time. He had tried to be free of her memories with other witches' company; however, it had been an exercise in futility, there was only one bookworm, his Hermione; it had to be her. Only around her he could be himself; and Hermione was all that he ever wanted. He knew she was the one for him since the very first time he saw her. She had been but a child but maybe not in his country, his mother had been a bride at fifteen.

His hand went up her leg, and his fingers stopped to caress the soft inner thigh, right below where he could feel her beckoning heat.

He bit her lip, "Come with me; ve touch and nothing else, just as ve did at my home. I vant to see you, you are beautiful everywhere especially here," he touched her mound and caressed it with his knuckles.

"It is a beautiful thing, a rose smelling of Her-my-nee's sex, I want to sink my face in your flower and drink its nectar." He nearly had when she was in his home. He had managed to dip his tongue before she pulled away, scared of going further. Now, he desperately wanted to taste her, to memorize her, to make her his. If he could get her alone, he wouldn't stop at touching, he wanted to make her pregnant, irresponsible, but effective.

Yes, he had been foolish to have been so disciplined and to have waited; he shouldn't have listened. Damn, he was now nearly sure that the two immature and thoughtless boy had taken her away from him. And he knew they were bound to fail to make her happy, just because they took her for granted.

"Viktor we need to get out of here; Ron and Harry will soon be looking for me." Hermione was afraid of her own feelings; if she spent one more hour with Viktor, she would be his, thus unable to keep her promises to help Harry. The battle against the Dark took precedence over her needs and desires, even if it required immense personal sacrifice; hence, she must do what was expected of her.

"Let them; I need you even more." Viktor insisted, and his fingers gently moved her knickers aside for easier access. He rested his chin on her head wanting to get lost in the sensation.

His fingers gently opened the wet labia, and they both cried softly at the contact. Her wet heat was eroding his last vestiges of restrain. He could feel the flutter of her muscles as he moved his fingers near her tight entrance, a wave of need shook his body.

A deep moan and a cry, were heard when his long digit slid in. By Eros, he wanted this witch.

The intense desire urged him to do something reckless, "I open my trousers, yes? And you touch me, do it my luf, just as you did last summer, please help me." He guided her hand inside his unfastened trousers; however, at the feel of the wet head, she pulled her hand back, and an anguished sound escaped his lips.

"Viktor, I must go," she wanted out; If Ron or Harry should find her, it would be the end with them. And as the boys had said, she was but a fling for Viktor. He wasn't ready for her or for anyone, he was too famous and had the pick of the prettiest witches. Those were her assessments, but she was wrong.

Viktor wanted the witch for the long-haul, his parents, however, had said no to a Muggleborn at least not until the war was over. This wasn't fair; he wished he could marry her now, and they had said not after the conflict. He suspected his parents to be blood supremacists, believers of the false ideology, albeit their claims of neutrality. And he hoped that he was wrong. They were now urging him to take the Dark mark.

A voice was calling her, and she pushed him away with some regret.

Viktor, a graceful loser, moved his hand from her sex, but first he put the hand to his face. "You smell of voman, of the voman who will make a baby with me; your scent reminds me of desire and sex, I von't vash it. I shake Weasley's and Potter's hands with Her-my-nee perfume over my hand."

She paled, "Viktor, don't do it, that isn't nice," and once again pulled back; strangely, his actions made her channel throb, and telling him no, was barely an option. It was his unabashed and unrepentant, raw sexuality which made him nearly irresistible and beckoned her to stay.

Against her better judgment and instead of leaving, she pressed against him and her leg went around him. Her moves were urgent knowing that Viktor was upset with her behavior, and soon found out that apparently his fingers weren't angry. He found her hardened clit and one long finger found her tight entrance, he manipulated her expertly.

He didn't kiss her, instead pressed his body closer to hers. It took a considerable effort not to have her right there. In turn, her small hand wrapped around his hot, silky erection and his body shuddered in need as he thrust his hips, but she let go as she pressed herself against his hand.

He proved to be the strongest and moved away. If she denied him then nothing for her; it was better that way, if he had continued, he would had made her his; what did she expect? Lord, he wasn't made out stone. She sighed a little angry but understood.

"Luf, I von't vash my hand, I cannot be nice with silly boys who don't deserve a real voman like you; come here, just one more kiss."

After Viktor had left, Ron rubbed his itchy chin with his right hand, and a peculiar scent wafted straight into his nose. He sniffed, it was a familiar scent, he smelled again and saw Hermione staring at him strangely. She was flushed and her blush struck him as incongruous, and he did a double take. _Weird,_ he thought.

Knitting his eyebrows and twisting his mouth, as if in an angry contemplation, he went to wash his hands; but, first, he sniffed the guilty hand several times hoping to identify the source of the disconcerting smell.

Recognition finally downed on him, and Sherlock Weasley muttered with his voice sprinkled with a hint of righteous indignation, "Perfume, Hermione's perfume, probably when they were dancing, he ran his fucking hands upon her bare back long enough."

Anger rose with the imparted knowledge, luckily, he was unable to identify its more precise origins; and then again, maybe unfortunate and the truth might have been preferable for the couple involved.

Harry had shrewdly observed Ron's reaction, much to Hermione's distress; thus, never taking his eyes away from hers brought his hand to his nose, and his eyes opened widely showing surprised recognition. After all, he had "played" with Hermione more than once during the last months, and rather effortlessly he dentified her scent, his favorite, hence his instant arousal thinking of Hermione with Viktor.

He was a natural voyeur and loved, when allowed, to play their naughty brand of hide and seek while wearing his vanishing cloak. He was allowed to spy on her at her dorm, or when she was with Ron. He had always been quiet as a mouse, and a couple of times he went into the Prefect's bath when she was there; it was all so delightful.

He winked at her and wiggled his finger. "Someone has been a naughty witch and forgot to _invite _ her loyal audience," once again he inhaled his palm deeply, "This is a positively wicked fragrance," and pouted. She averted her eyes away from him rather annoyed. Harry chuckled and sounded more than a bit naughty.

Viktor had seen when she kissed Ron before the battle, and he had interrupted when she kissed Harry with the same fervor. No wonder, he made the wrong assumption that she was dispensing favors. And he approached her and picked her up in his strong arms, but a gentle peck was all he got. He had known it, and who was he fooling?

"So, who is the lucky one, Potter, or is it Weasley?"

"Or something," she answered mysteriously with a tinge of regret.

"Tell me ven the vedding is my little bookworm, so I vill say no. If I see you marry you kill my heart ven you chop, chop my love into small pieces." He made a comical gesture of a knife going into his heart. She barely smiled, it wasn't a joke, besides the poor sentence composition just to make her smile, but she soon forgot. He didn't.

A year later when the invitation came, he arranged to send a gift and threw the invitation in the rubbish can.

That night he went to see his fiancée, she was his parent's choice; try as he may, he was unable to shag, so he just sat at her flat and drank for three days non-stop. A few months later the Bulgarian witch was history, but he wasn't alone for long.

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A/N If you like this work I would appreciate your reviews. thanks


	2. ANOTHER BROKEN HEART MAKES 4HALF PIECES

**Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. This story will contain adult situations later.**

**Thanks to the gentle readers who have kindly reviewed.**

**_Warning: If Ron Weasley__'__s bashing bothers you, skip this chapter. Minor violence inflicted upon a wizard with a big mouth._**

**Chapter 2 –Another broken-heart makes 4-half pieces**

**A Beer-Bar - Belgium, November 2004-**

_Note: Partly an observer__'__s POV of the events which transpired that day, and related to an interested party at a later date - not part of this tale._

A tall ginger-hair man, and a shorter man with messy dark hair, walked into the exclusive beer bar. They dressed similarly, dark jeans, dragon hide boots, dark jumpers and leather jackets, both were extremely handsome and reeked of money and fame.

Gaston, the barman, recognized them on the spot; and was momentarily caught in hero worship; they were non-other than two thirds of the golden trio looking rather put-out. He ignored them for a minute, searching towards the darkened back of the establishment, while drying glasses out the glass washer.

Gaston was a young wizard who loved the muggle scene; his honorable ancestors had come from the islands of the rising sun. He had worked at the pub for nearly half-year, the same three days during the evening. His workdays coincided with the days that Miss Granger, who was here in assignment, came by to have a beer, or a tea, and a light meal, while she read a book, always alone.

He had a serious crush on the unattainable Mrs. Weasley; no, her name was Miss Granger, as she had corrected him the first time. He was only eighteen, and it was enough to see her at his bar. Besides, he loved to tell all his mates how beautiful she was. They were all envious of him, and asked for daily details of how she looked.

"Excuse me mate, have you seen a young woman with long curly hair—about this tall, not very pretty, ah, and she dresses rather, hmm, cheap; if you know what I mean, a slag."

Ron Weasley, had addressed Gaston, his voice was defiantly angry, and he looked down on Gaston, what an ass.

Gaston's stomach started to churn, if he was a hero, why was he using such words to refer to Miss Granger? She always looked very nice, trés chic in her modern clothes, very elegant, maybe sexy, but a slag never. For Pete's sake, she never talked to anyone; let alone welcomed any approaches. He should know, had to call security more than once.

"No Messieurs, I haven't seen anyone matching your description" answered Gaston, with the snobbiest voice he could muster.

"I have, however, seen Miss Granger, a beautiful and elegant witch," he lowered his voice to a whisper at the last word, "If that is whom you wish to find!"

Harry Potter let out a chuckle at hearing the retort, and even louder when Ron's face changed to a deep shade of red.

"Nobody is paying you to have a smart mouth; do you know who are you talking to? We are Potter and Weasley, the war, you must have heard about us. Moreover, since you know of Miss Granger you must know who we are, where is she?"

Weasley haughtily demanded, coming right into Gaston's personal space, not respecting his boundaries, and obviously letting him know he was the alpha.

"Are you looking for me dear hearts?" asked the witch in question, coming straight towards them, a the small glass of brew in her left hand, her right hand deep in her pocket, probably holding her wand. Gaston had to suppress a delighted smile, but not for long, the two heroes would soon make the witch cry.

"So, when the fuck are you planning to come back home, and finally end this charade?"

Ron stood in an angry stance and moved right in front of her. Gaston sensed Ron's clear intention to use his height, a good seven inches taller than her, to intimidate Miss Granger.

"And have you forgotten our bonds, and how about the promises right before the battle? We have only slipped a little, but how about you: a liar, a deceiver, and a rotten shag to top it all. Had you not told us, 'I only need signatures on the papers, no divorce but only in case we cannot work things out, shall we call it 'my insurance? ' " Weasley was spewing the words that came to his mouth, showing zero respect for the woman he had married.

"Those were your words, you lying cow. We trusted you and instead you lied to King, told him that we had consented, and you went away to hide in a foreign assignment." He kept getting closer to her as she stepped back, not minding his hurtful words, and pressing his finger into her shoulder.

Gaston had to restrain his emotions, he wanted to jump and pull him back, but he could be fired for such an involvement. He was clenching his hands throughout the entire speech.

"By the way, the divorce is no longer valid; effective on the first of this month, we are only separated until you fulfill the terms of the contract. Remember the: we love each other and I want to have at least one child of each. Why don't we put it in the contract just to make all think that is the reason we are marrying?"

Potter was also pale and stood there, doing nothing to stop Weasley, as Gaston would later relate.

"The house is falling apart; we have to eat take-away every day. Molly is doing our laundry; we have to pay a civil servant to pay our bills, and manage the vaults while we are away playing Quidditch. This is just intolerable, besides I do miss you in bed, and all over the house. "Potter, the coward he was, added his two sickles worth but avoided her eyes.

Both wizards had the appearance of lions, ready to pounce upon an injured gazelle. They had a hidden agenda, Gaston was sure of that. Subtle signs were being exchanged between the two, if only he could warn her.

"I must have missed it, did you miss me because? Aha, because you don't have a house-slave, someone to run the manor while the boys are gone to play their game? A couple house-elves would better serve the purpose."

"Love, it sounded all wrong, please forgive us, we are lonely and miss you at home, in our bed, especially with Christmas coming up. Remember last year, the big ball you put together, it took you over a month, and it was the most talked social event of the year. Your beauty made us the envy of every male in the room. Even Malfoy, father and son, drooled at your presence." Potter's face glowed with an intense emotion.

"The ball was great, but not as much as our private party, the all 'night-shagging' that followed. I know that nobody can give us the magic you do, the feeling of true love. I have never been unfaithful, I might have watched, but nothing else. Besides my feet miss your tiny cold feet, close to me in bed, and your sweet bum, pressed against my, ehem."

Potter's voice was low and husky, and Gaston couldn't believe they were discussing such private matters out in public; granted the bar was still empty. Nevertheless, he was an outsider and witnessing the entire encounter. As for the, "I just watched…" What was Potter doing while he watched? Hello, didn't he enjoy the show? It had to be one of the lamest defenses he had ever heard.

He was guilty of breaking his vows as much as the ginger-hair idiot, no matter is excuses.

Potter's eyes turned all dreamy, and Weasley advanced in an attempt to get closer to Miss Granger. The little sex reference had turned-on their male mode. And just then, Potter's arm sneaked around her waist. In one jump, Weasley was in front of her, and they had made a human sandwich out of the small witch.

Gaston thought he would burst a vein at his inability to intervene.

Gaston had figured it all out; she was in a relationship with the two wizards, so all the speculation was true, it had been a three-way bonding. The press wasn't allowed at the wedding, and there had not been any following releases. However the rumor mill had always speculated. Some love match, the happiest of triads they weren't. She appeared to be miserable in between the two possessive and muscular wizards. They didn't deserve her that much was clear to him.

"What you two need is a social hostess, and someone to warm your bed while you are in town, and your groupies aren't around for party-time. And let's not forget Ginny and her friends from the Hollies. Why don't you ask them, at least it isn't happening at my home. It makes me sick to think you were shagging all those witches on my own bed, at my grandparent's old home." Gaston could see her body shivering, and anger ran through him.

"Harry, Ron, let's not forget that I was working to defend the half-breed orphans in countries ravaged by the war, per your own request, as request by Francesco, the PR for your team." Her voice was bitter and flat, her shoulders slumped, the fighting witch featured in books, posters; the role model of little girls; the love object of more than one wizard in her torn battle clothes; was but a defeated young woman.

Gaston could see her resistance winding down; Potter massaged her neck with one hand, her torso with the other, and kissed her neck with his eyes closed as her body fused into his. You could see the wizard love her, but it made him mad. It wasn't jealousy what he felt but sadness; it downed on him that was their agenda, to seduce her and bring her back. Now, Weasley rubbed her forehead with his, and his lips were on hers, as they faded away…

Gaston was a little sad that he hadn't been able to hear very well what went on, only bits and pieces. He wished he could understand all that was said, especially later on. There was a lot more conversation, a lot more he didn't hear.

They all left the room for a long while; and when they came back, the two wizards were smiling with a -_I was shagged, type of look_-, whilst Miss Granger looked upset at herself.

The two were holding her by one arm. Potter leaned on her direction, not able to keep his hands-off her, and wouldn't stop kissing her hair. He appeared to have reached a star; no doubt that he was very much in love with the witch, making the situation all together more bizarre. 'What a fool,' Gaston thought. Finally, she got away from them and came to the bar. Potter appeared forlorn when she left.

"Frozen vodka with one splash of sweet lime juice, make it a small pitcher, a double pitcher." She asked Gaston.

Gaston noticed her eyes full of tears and didn't know what to say. "I know what you are thinking and whatever it is, it is right. I am a fool for all they want is a house and sex slave." And the tears escaped her eyes, she sat there for a few minutes, and Gaston was disconcerted. In his job there were many lonely people who talked to him, but this was a first for Miss Granger.

"I don't even know anymore. I can only say I love one of them, and I probably will for the rest of my entire life. As for the other, he has ruined everything, and he was my mistake from day one. You cannot expect anything from those who have nothing to give." All Gaston could do was to listen.

Before she knew, they were back and approached her, both trying to physically hold of her.

"Let's go love, we will get your things and go home. We can continue playing in our own room." Wesley was loud and cocky.

She pushed the two wizards from coming closer, "Get your grubby hands away from me. I haven't forgotten, and I won't try for more babies. "She stood up, and stepped backwards.

"You," she pointed at Weasley, "tried to void my potion and my spell. And you, Harry, you looked the other way, even if with disgust, and didn't do anything about it. You two are despicable rats, who came here to take me back by force and to get me pregnant. Using my body against me, knowing how I feel for you, this was the last time."

Gaston deduced that they had shagged during the last couple hours they had been gone, and the wizards had tampered her contraceptive protection. He thought she was glorious in her anger, and was glad there were no other customers to see her hair crackling with magic.

Miss Granger had continued," I lost my two babies from the stress of what I saw; I can still see it in front of my eyes. And from Ron pushing me so hard against the rail of the terrace, right after I found you shagging those groupies in my room, on my bed," and she stopped as if she was remembering something, her voice was breaking.

"I guess, looking back, Harry was truly watching, which is also disgusting. Ron, I should foremost remember that you are here because you fear Harry's desertion if I'm not back. And Harry, for your information, had you come alone, I would had gone back but only to you. However, because you insist in protecting the ginger-bottom -dweller, the offer is no longer available; and never as long as you protect and back that scum."

Harry was clearly ashamed, "Mimi, please lower your voice, we are in a public place, and please forgive me, I know I have done wrong;" and against her wishes took a hold of her hand, held it against his lips, and dried her runaway tears while she talked, with great tenderness. It was plain to see that she wanted to be with him.

Gaston could see that Mr. Potter really loved the witch, and was wondering how he could be so blind to prefer Mr. Weasley to the beautiful and nice Miss Granger.

"Yes, Ron, I am talking to you, not once have you asked for forgiveness, for your part on the babies' deaths. And you Harry, have you lost all your good qualities, what happened to friends for life before lovers; please go, the two of you; yes Harry, you, because you will be and are a coward, and still back him up. Leave, you have done enough damage, you have said and done enough for one day. Consider the –nap or whatever it was back at my room, a good-bye gesture."

She pulled her hand away and stepped back one more step.

"And, yes, you are right; we are in a public establishment. We are, however, the only ones besides the bartender, but the crowd will soon be coming. Thus, it might be best if you'll go now."

She drank a long sip of her vodka "And as for these rings, trust me when I say, -I will find a way to get them off- You should know that I'm not yours to tag like cattle." She pointed at two rather beautiful rings, one hugging each ring finger.

Harry seemed sad when he held Weasley by the arm, "Come on Ron, we will try later, but she is right. We did many things wrong; let her get better, and then we can come back. It is too soon; and, just try to imagine what would happen if Molly was to find out about the babies. Let's go and maybe, maybe something good might come out of today."

Potter seemed crushed and not all-together well. At this, Gaston felt a teensy bit sorry for him, but not much. Potter should punch Weasley, fall on his knees in front of Miss Granger, beg for forgiveness, kiss the ground where she walked, and grovel for maybe a year.

"Are you dumb Harry, she is just a slag. She is here to find Muggle shags. We wizards are nothing to her. After we asked her to be with us, such an unattractive Mudblood, and she doesn't even know how to shag. I was a lad and blind." He was once again flushed, with darker splotches of red all over, and he was on a nasty roll.

"Humph, then wonders why we need some on the side. She is a great solicitor, a powerful witch, a good cook, and a graceful social hostess, but cannot even keep babies in her. Face it, shaging her today was slightly better than using my hand." Weasley's mean and crude remarks made Harry appear absolutely sad and miserable.

Potter stood in front of the taller wizard and held him by the arm, with a firm grip.

"If you call her names just once more, consider our friendship over, forever. You don't ever again call her the M word, not in front of me or behind my back. And you never, ever, question her morals. You have no room to say anything. "Potter was nose to nose with Weasley.

"Furthermore, don't challenge me here. Lastly, not once, and you know it well, I have sought any on the side, the witches you bring to the hotels are for your satisfaction. Most of the time I am somewhere else, and I am tired of making excuses for you. You have cost me the witch I love."

He had to stop, to calm himself. His voice coming in angry gasps.

"I wish you would tell her, what I have told you time after time; I don't agree with your comportment and never have. You were the brother, I never had. I have more than enough with the ones I chose to be with. And as long as I have hope, I will never look for anyone else. Let's go and keep your mouth shut, or, I will make it happen, understood?"

Gaston saw the savior of the Wizarding world for the first time, he looked scary and powerful. Amazing, his hair also crackled with magic.

The fool didn't understand, "She is a slag, and I will say it again, worthless witch, a whore, her blood is unclean."

Ron looked at her, his eyes narrow with hatred, and Harry backed up and pulled his wand, but then thought better and stood frozen. His hands fisted, his body shaking, his face pale, and then as in slow motion his hand made a very tight fist and hooked him right on the jaw, which made the taller wizard loose his step. Ron never saw that coming.

Weasley's last words had been way too much for Gaston, who jumped over the bar. He cleared the counter with no effort; it was as if he had flown over the tall counter, coming from a long line of magic ninjas it wasn't a feat.

He landed on Weasley's side at the same instance that he was recoiling from Potter's hard punch, and connected with Weasley via a flying kick on the side of the head, not too hard, but strategically centered to hit a specific spot.

It was magically calculated to precision, and the kick alone was guaranteed to put him out for several hours. Additionally, Ron Weasley would be impotent for at least two hundred and thirty two days, a little extra-treat caused by pressing the marked-point during the quick.

"If you do it again, right on his crotch, you have one thousand galleons." Harry told him, his face hard, lacking all traces of his former joviality.

"My pleasure, "he just pressed with his foot on an area outside of the thigh, and Ron twitched in pain, even when out.

"Merry Christmas Mr. Potter, that was better than a kick. He will be both impotent and his bollocks will hurt whenever he thinks of sex, at least for the next two hundred and thirty two days. Now, please clear this rubbish away before I call the security guards. I wish you well. And if I may be so bold, I cannot understand how you choose this sorry wizard over the lovely Miss Granger; I thought you had more sense than that."

Of course he knew that Miss Granger wouldn't entertain any notions of reconciliation with Mr. Potter, not right now.

"Sorry Hermione, please forgive me. I love you very much, and I hope one day you will take me back, I will keep trying; I never said or thought the things that came out Ron's big mouth. Please Mione; forgive him, for your peace of mind, not for him. He doesn't think about the things, he says. Please forgive me and think of another chance. I will wait, and I will ask you again." Potter's eyes were full of tears, and Gaston could sense his anguish.

Miss Granger didn't look at Potter, who performed some kind of wandless magic, and took Weasley without a hitch into the room with the floo; Gaston accompanied him, and made sure they were gone. Potter gave him a purse which contained 1,500 galleons, as he found out later.

"If he comes back looking for her, call this number, and don't let him get to her. I don't trust him. I left you something extra for your troubles and any calls." He sounded concerned.

It took him but a couple of minutes, and upon his return, Gaston helped her sit down. He went behind the bar and poured her an Armagnac, "Drink it, Miss Granger. It is on the house. Mr. Potter loves you, and he is obviously conflicted; you should wait before you make final decision; I think you have known him all your life. Love like that never dies. "

Since that day, Miss Granger wasn't the same. So much for famous war heroes, Gaston thought, and wished he was a little older to offer something to the beautiful witch. How could she believe the lies of one nasty wizard? He might be famous and rich, but Ronald Weasley was one sorry fool, and if he had the chance, he would like to beat him up within an inch of his life.

Mr. Potter would call him occasionally, at least once a week to inquire upon her, and make sure Ron wasn't harassing her. Gaston would always say the same, "You should call her yourself, as my honorable grandfather often advises, "Never leave pretty hen alone, too many randy roosters in pen."

Xox

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A/N. Ah, Harry always following the wrong advice, alas. I think she needs a knight in seeker armor.


	3. Victorious Encounter

**Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. I do not get paid for this writing.** This fiction is rated M for content and language.

Reviews are appreciated. Thanks to those who review, and to everyone that reads. I send a virtual hug to everyone, and a big one to my dear Savva who is waging a war for her life.

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**Chapter 3- Victorious encounter**

**Broken hearts mending, 14 Feb Belgium**

He went inside the darkened hotel bar, which was located inside the exclusive Muggle hotel where he stayed. The hotel's management had also catered to magical clientele for over a century.

He wanted to read a book, and try some of the brew on jtheir beer menu, some 100 plus microbreweries were represented here, from monasteries to small towns. This was the good thing about Muggle establishments, he could bring a book, drink and eat, and nobody would think the less for his wanting to be alone, as he felt somewhat inclined this particular night. He might have company later but usually it was only him.

Today, the city was celebrating a Muggle tradition, festooned with hearts and cupids that seemed to be everywhere, and red apparently was the color of choice. He had seen parties advertised all over the place, particularly in the American establishments. Maybe he would set the book aside, get lucky and find some suitable company, if Karkaroff showed up .even better.

He loved Belgium, its beer and Flemish-Franco cuisine. The best cuisine ever, he thought. He loved the street frites, their rich waffles with clotted cream and fresh strawberries, seasoned grilled meats, their chocolate pralines, and their beer, oh yes, the wonderful golden brew.

Viktor Krum, 27 years old, the number one wizard European bachelor, two years in a row, had held on to the place after the tragic demise of his to-be-bride. She had died as a result of a fatal boat accident; more about this release later, had quoted the press, and later came and went without a real update.

About later, it was an orchestrated press story, engineered by their new PR witch, Lavender Finnegan. The truth of the matter was that Viktor's Hungarian fiancé ran away with an American Muggle movie producer. Within a few months, he dumped her, and she, disguised behind glamour, went to work for a magic act in Las Vegas. In less than a week, she was picked by a famous Magic circus and billed as a top star. She wore so much makeup that nobody would have recognized her.

His team preferred the Wizarding establishments, but he loved variety and fresh ideas, besides of having tasted an especially 'delicious muggle concoction', way back then. She tasted of apples and cinnamon, or so he thought at the time when he was a young blood.

So, here he was, licking old wounds and nostalgic for things that could had been. Mostly for the one who had never returned his heart, the one who left and took it with her.

He remembered the time period before the war… He could recall all the days spent in the company of the delicious little witch, a time which had made him forever a fan of all that was Muggle. If only, he sighed, and as he often did, he tried to imagine the happiness if he had followed through.

He opened the door into the hallway leading into the bar. He could hear the sound of music and people laughing, and saw two couples coming in, obviously in love; and continued his musing, Oh, the mistakes of the youth, first too young and too eager to be a good son; then the war and her self-imposed sacrifices; followed by his anger at the kissing scene after the battle.

His reasoning consequently provided the perfect excuse to give her up, much too easily, to the spoiled wizards. If he had to be truthful, giving her up well suited his desires to concentrate on his Quidditch career. Of course, it wasn't the only reason; it allowed him to comply with his parents continued anti-Muggle stand; which was quickly followed by his arranged betrothal.

Few months later, he read about her engagement to the Weasley boy, or was it to Potter? Yes, apropos he'd never followed after the wedding. Hmm, what was for him to follow, bah!'

As he readied to enter, he ran his hand through his longer hair, he had a great idea. He needed to follow up, he would ask, nothing lost, if he could—

"I don't know Gaston, be a dear and pour me the largest of the strongest tea you have and keep coming; I am treating myself today, on this one bloody Saint Valentine's Day. Whoever made a day to celebrate the fallacy of love? Cannot even drink, gives me a headache. "

Viktor's thoughts had grounded to a halt by the request to the bartender, along with his body's movements.

That voice, it couldn't, no, not possible; surely his senses betrayed his mind; his body trembled, and his reflexes anticipated. His body and mind went on seeker mode, and he was ready to catch the elusive golden snatch, err, snitch? Could his luck be that sweet?

Viktor Krum hoped and prayed; superstitiously closed his eyes, an old superstition, if your eyes are open, your wish will be nothing but a mirage. Viktor stood in place for no longer than a couple of seconds. He waited before turning in the direction where the voice had originated.

However, you should know what they say, the old adage -Be careful of you wish for-, and Viktor would have answered, "Yes, because you might like it." And that he did, he turned around—and—he really was going to like, what he was about to see.

"Ok, I heard you, I am a love goddess, even if you think that, I don't want you at my table, can you see I am reading a book. It means I don't want to talk to anyone."

The next thing he heard was an angry, "Sod-off buddy, I don't bloody care if you love my British accent, or if you think I—Hey, damn, are you deaf, don't touch my book. What the hell, that is my hand, scram, and get-off."

_She_, the one with the voice, sounded upset.

He walked, he was now three tables away, and still couldn't clearly see the voice's owner. Damn, her face was obscured by a heavy set, tall, blond man, who was bending over towards her, and what was the man doing? Was it her, it had to be. His heart boomed so loud he could hear it inside his head.

Gaston was already at the phone, calling hotel security. He had seen many wizards and Muggles attracted to her magic and beauty, during the half-year he had known her, however, she seemed to be under the impression that she wasn't one bit attractive. Her damn ex-s, he couldn't forget seeing the Weasley-bully, and the mostly spineless savior, in action less than three months ago.

Finally, Viktor was there, "You, mister, muf, ze lady vants you to go, skidy doodly." Viktor growled, as he grabbed the burly Muggle by the scruff of the thick neck away from her, just as if he were a young kitten.

Gaston liked what he was seeing, and hoped for a tiny ray of warm sunshine to envelope the crush of his life, Miss Granger. He loved her with a platonic love, and enough to wish happiness for her. True, that he kind of hoped that she would patch up with Mr. Potter; however, it was really not for him to decide. Besides, judging by her past, she seemed to be happy with more than one wizard.

The moment when Viktor heard the peals of the sweetest laughter he had heard in along time, a happy smirk grazed his lips; those glorious sounds came from his Her-my-nee. He had known the moment he heard her.

She loved it when he mispronounced sayings, half the time he did it intentionally, just to make her laugh. He knew that he had mispronounced 'skedaddle', and was happy his trick had worked. She didn't know how much his English had improved; and that he wanted to speak as he did before, just to be noticed by her.

"I played football at Stanford, 1992-1995, I am 6 foot, 3 inches, blah, blah," the American was back and growled right by Viktor's ear.

Surely, he was ignoring the fact that Viktor was no slouch. He failed to assess that at 6 foot-8 inches, and 225 lbs (203 cm, 100kg) of lean muscle, Viktor was a killing machine. The flabby, out of shape, commodities investor tried to swing a punch, at the very instance the cavalry arrived, three security guards, and without further ado, he was taken away.

Viktor stood there dazed. Yes it was her, but wow, he hadn't seen her since 1998. He had been "busy" for her wedding in 2000. And here on 2004, six years later, the teenager was gone and in her place stood a grown-up witch, and what a witch she was.

He must have looked as a bumbling fool, as the village's idiot, and all he could do was just stare. Hermione was dressed in a short empire cut, right above the knee red-jersey dress, with three-quarter length sleeves regally hugging her shapely arms. The dress wasn't body tight yet it softly draped her curves, clinging in all the right places, not leaving much to the imagination.

It had a low, asymmetrical collar, and he could see the top of her firm breasts; cords with all sorts of stones and crystals served as closures. Her slender wrists were adorned with some intricate Celtic knots made out of platinum and unicorn tail hair in crystal colors, he recognized it from where he stood.

The hair, a riot of soft heavy curls, was nearly waist length, and held away from her delicate face with combs in the shape of stylized lions.

When she rotated out of the chair to stand up, he admired her slender, toned legs, encased in dark fishnet hose; and the small feet wearing some kind of short dangerously high boots that sported the same cords and stones than her dress. Her lips and her nails were painted, in the exact shade of her dress, and her eyes were decorated with kohl in the shape of a smoky mask.

His entire body had fallen under her enchantment, his mouth felt like sand paper, and much to his dismay, his 'Regius-Instrumentus ' (the magnificent tool, pet name for his bit),was expanding to gargantuan proportions which he had only experienced a few times. Shit, he had muggle jeans, so was it best to pretend, and to let it ride, or to let it stand? He thought each choice was the same; yup, he was right.

**Heart****s**** mending**

"Hi there Viktor, are you going to say hello? Or are you going to ogle at me the entire night? Watch out for Gaston, he is my protector, and you are looking a little too hungry."

Her eyes shone with daring and a little mischief. Yikes, Viktor looked very hot with those tight jeans, and the red and gold stripes cashmere pullover framing his powerful torso, hot mercies.

"Nah, he is but a child, vat 18, 20? 55 kilos, no vay; I don't think so. I am going blind, you luk very, very beautiful, a rose amongst daisies. May I sit here, are you vaiting for someone? Maybe not, I guess not, ve both have a book."

They both lifted the books, in salute as they had in the past and smiled. They no longer saw the other people at the other tables, and failed to notice everyone had stopped talking, and were looking at the two beautiful people who seemed to glow. Even the people who were dancing sat down to look at the show.

The place was getting full, Gaston was busy, and the customers had to go by the bar to get their beer, while he wasn't looking several people came in. He disliked when he was alone in busy nights like this, he would be glad when the help would arrive in a few minutes.

Many people were looking at the ongoing show, particularly the one who kept shooting angry looks their way.

"Silly Viktor, fancy meeting you here, but first give me a proper hug. You cannot imagine how glad I am to see you. Hello dear old friend, ten long years we have known each other." His smile made his face glow.

She finally stood up. Her silk-woolen dress draped around her curves like a gentle stream in a water course, flowing down and wrapping around each curve, each crevice, up, and down hugging her peach shaped bum, taking a dip in the narrow curve of her waist, clinging just a little on the hidden promise, right between the barely discernible **_V_** formed at the top of her thighs.

The knitted material framed and hugged the valleys and the peaks of her flat stomach, her slender torso, and her mouth-watering, just-the-right-size breasts. The legs, sinuous and slender, toned pillars holding up a human-vessel made for love.

Viktor's eyes processed her in seconds; in his romantic mind she was a lifetime dream made reality. She had filled up since the time at his old apartment, her body was amazing. She was a song, a poem written for lover's passions, for the one wizard who could write the lyrics, for her sounds of passion on the throws of amazing and consuming sex.

His mind was foggy with lust, and from Byron and other poetry, it went straight down south, to locker-talk. In his mind he had taken all her clothes off, he was sinking his tongue between her moist folds aiming for her nubbin. He would breathe her scent in, and she would taste of Hermione. He smiled at that thought because he had no idea of her taste, it had been so brief.

He could see her looking at him with desire. His wanting her, made every muscle from his waist down clench with currents of lust, and his body hard with need.

He went in seconds through hours of foreplay, and at the end, he was holding her legs around his waist, his dripping cock right at the wet entrance. He had to close his eyes for a second, overwhelmed with the imagined feeling of starting to enter her. So tight, so wet, enveloping him tightly as he moved inside. His breath hitched. He had to stop his hips from thrusting forward, and to bite his lip to stop a loud moan.

That brought him back, shit, what was he doing? His prick was throbbing and twitching with need; darn, was he going to come just thinking? Was he loosing his mind, holy cow, get a grip Krum. He shook his head as the coach had taught them to clear their minds. Hermione smiled wondering what had made him shake his head like a giant dog, she had seen many wizards do it, it was sweet.

Viktor was not sure of how much time it had lapsed. Surely, he was bewitched, and he wasn't the only one. She was aroused, and that made her even more desirable.

Both male and female customers were a captive audience, to their sexy allure and to their magic.

Lusty glances were flying across the room, but any male expectations were quickly dispelled at observing Viktor's sheer size, and the hopeful look in Hermione's semblance, 'No room at this inn. Fully occupied,' was the sign hanged around Hermione. As for Viktor, he only had eyes for the sexy female in front of him; the one he had never stopped loving.

She came and gave him one of her bear hugs; she was genuinely glad to see him. Moreover, many times through the years, even more recently, she had regretted turning him down.

The pain was worse this last year, after find out about all the witches and wizards Ron had been shagging since day one. Harry would hide it from her because of his loyalties. Harry's allegiance first went to Ron, not going there, not tonight. She had cried too many tears for Harry, who had not even once called her since November.

But now seeing Viktor, all the years fell away, and she remembered her first love. She remembered how she mourned when she had read about his engagement, and forgetting days after her own was announced. And, now, here he was in front of her, her Bulgarian in shinning armor.

Even in her 3.5 inch thigh heels, the 5' 5" small frame heroine, seemed dwarfed, appearing as a delicate porcelain doll, next to the tall, Slav wizard. She was letting go of the hug, and Viktor decided, 'hell with that.'

He was so aroused, and so very happy to see her, that he quit caring about the others. What a day, all bummed and magically, there she was, his witch, making him realize how much he still loved her, that all he had ever wanted, had been his old-new-only-love against him, forever.

After the realization, he moved closer and gathered her in his arms. An embrace worthy of a 40's movie and not even thinking; his repressed, over-half-a-decade emotions broke the dam of denial, giving way to a flood of feelings.

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A/N Next chapter in a couple of days.

True, Harry is weak; he thinks he owes his life to Molly and Co. I do adore Harry, and in some of my fictions he gets the witch. It is too early to tell on this one. I do like Irmorena suggestion to tell Molly. The story is written, but I listen to suggestions.

Thanks for reviewing.


	4. The kiss or is this Love

Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. I do not get paid for this writing. This story contains situations better suited for mature readers.

Warning: M rating is well deserved for this chapter although just hints and sensuality. If this is not your thing, and/or if you are not an adult reader, please skip it; otherwise, do enjoy the start of refreshing glass of fresh lemonade.

Once again, many thanks to those who have reviewed, and thanks to those who are reading it; and a reminder this story is not a very long one, it goes another three or four more chapters.

Xox

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Last week:

Even in her three inch heels, the, five-foot and six-inches, small-frame heroine, seemed dwarfed, appearing as a delicate-porcelain-doll next to the tall, Slav wizard. She was letting go of the hug, and Viktor decided, _'hell with that_.'

He was so aroused, and so very happy to see her, that he quit caring about the others. What a day, all bummed and as if by magic, there she was, his witch, who made him realize how much he still loved her, that all he had ever wanted was his old-new-only-love against him, forever.

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**The Kiss**

He gathered her in his arms. An embrace worthy of a 40's movie and not even thinking; his repressed, over-half-a-decade emotions broke the dam of denial, giving way to a flood of feelings.

Thus, he pressed her close to his body; he wanted her to feel his impossibly hard-erection, to communicate his need. He wanted her to know the reaction she had caused him after all this time. As he lowered his lips, he stooped his torso and bent her a little backwards. Without further ado, he just descended his face above hers and roughly smashed his lips against hers. Not delicate kisses, resembling the last emotional kisses they had shared long ago.

Her lips faintly tasted of green tea mixed with Hermione flavoring. When his lips touched hers, a small moan rose to his lips. He imagined her mouth as her moist cave, and his tongue was going into her, just as if it was his spear piercing her flesh. His entire body was just feeling; he was a sensual receptor.

He was moving his tongue mimicking what he wanted to do with her, as little moans escaped his throat and strange tiny bird-like-sounds from hers. Each, nearly inaudible sound travelled from his ear into his brain, processed, and sent, back, straight into his groin, it was getting to be too much. It was exactly that way for her.

The world around them ceased to exist. Hermione felt the long hardness pressing her belly, which in turn, released a deluge of moisture in her nether regions. Her knickers were soaked, and the ache to be filled was overwhelming. She could feel small achy spasms, and her entire being consumed by live magic, by waves of desire; she could feel electrical currents of need reaching all her nerve endings.

She was keening quiet softly as the rolling waves of moans threatened to escape her throat. His tongue asked for admission, and her lips opened and let his minty tongue barely in. He insisted and demanded full access. The mode changed, it was more pressing, taking what he deserved. Then, he slowed down, and he sensually caressed her tongue, licked all around, invited her tongue to join the dance and do just the same. His hips melded with hers, pressing ever harder. Moving around, rejoicing in the textures being felt.

Merlin, he felt so large, though maybe it was just a perception, the result of wanting him so much. She remembered holding him back at his place, this felt much bigger. He was making love to her with his tongue, with the feelings conveyed in his hands; and she was fully aware of his desire, hearing the moans in his throat, and the feel of his trembling body pressing against hers.

All eyes were fixed on the couple; it reminded many of 'The kiss', of Klimt, or, of Rodin's sculpture. The rawness and intensity of the emotions had many longing for a lovers embrace. The sheer sexuality and lust emitted from this magical couple, was wreaking havoc with the non-magical humans' emotions.

She wanted him all over her, and this wasn't the place. She gently pushed him away, and he understood. Separating his mouth with great effort, he leaned his forehead against hers. For a second, a protest rose and was stopped, he wasn't thinking too clear, and both realized the establishment was totally silent, if not for the alternative jazz music in the background. Playfully, he rubbed his nose against hers, "An Eskimo kiss," she giggled softly.

Her little joke was lost on him; all he wanted was to be inside of her, naked in bed, dressed against a wall, on the floor dressed or naked, just with her forever-imagined body against his. He had been waiting for this day for a long nine years, since he was eighteen, and he no longer wanted to wait. Hell, he still had wild dreams where she was his muse.

The dreams never stopped, not even after she had married, he had never forgotten her. His dreams continued to plague him, even during the days he pursued any witch on his path. It was always her, the witch in his dreams, his Hermione. In dreams, they were at the library, not a stitch of clothes in either of them, reading and shagging at the same time.

All those nights at Hogwarts, came to him in a rush. The need and the want that never went away, understanding she was too young and innocent for him, he took untold number of cold showers; he used his hand way too often; and when he held her on his lap after the Black Lake, 'Oh Eros, god of love, what tortures you put me through,' he thought.

After the rescue, she had sat right on his raging erection, and he didn't dare to move, for fear that she would realize, or worse that he would come if he moved. Her movements had made his heart beat furiously; and he hid his face behind her hair; otherwise, everyone would have seen the lust on his face. He felt her against him for days.

And there was the night he kissed her, after the Yule Ball; it had been an effort to stop before going too far. His hands had gone up her torso, he wanted to touch her young breasts so bad, his fingers were aching, and she kept pressing her body against his, "Hold me Viktor, I am so afraid you will go and forget about me." He knew better, she was innocent, and wanted to keep her so; waiting was tough, however, they had plans to marry, and he so wished they had.

That was the past, right now, the wait had to be over; all he knew was that he wanted her, and he wanted her right now!

And then, he remembered the summer of 1997 when she came to see him for a week. He wanted to keep her; but his parents didn't want her for daughter-in-law, the Muggle fear; and with all those memories all he wanted was to kiss her again, to make sure she was here. When his arms tightened on her, she whispered, "Let's sit, this is not the place."

A general sight of relief was heard along the table as the standing couple separated and sat down, to others they appeared a bit dazzled and confused; nevertheless, a round of applause followed. Whenever the people there, minus one, would be asked about the hottest kiss they ever witnessed, they would tell people the story.

Even Gaston had to smile and joined the ovation. He would have recognized Krum anywhere, besides she was only a pipe dream, and it would seem the last name of her happiness was Krum. It was a feel-good type of outcome. Too bad that he couldn't tell his friends what he had seen, you couldn't put it in words, and she deserved her privacy.

Viktor couldn't find his voice; he was drowning in her eyes' unfathomable depths. He only wanted to drink her nectar, and submerge Regius in the tight cave of contracting walls, the one that his Instrumentus was destined for; he stretched his hand to get her hand, held hers on his, brought to his heart, and covered with his. There, that felt a little better.

Hermione found herself in an equally desperate position. She wanted him; she wanted the hardness just pressed against her belly to make her scream sounds of coming, of cleansing, of erasing sorrows, and catch them in a sticky release of passion and lust. She would deal with the next situations as they came, nothing seem insurmountable with Viktor by her side.

The sexual tension was raging, increasing, these powerful, magical couple was affecting the electronics, and even the beer taps which were foaming excessively; the music equipment was experiencing spikes; and the lights kept going out. Men, who had stopped for a beer, said goodbye and hurried home to their loves, to their partners. Women were no different; and the bottom line was that this couple wasn't good for business in such an anticipated busy night.

**Love is it**

A hidden cherub was giggling, he did not even have to waste an arrow, and he had collected a bounty. That heartless wife of his would have to let him grow to adult size during the other days of the year. How was his Goddess going to contest over 50 hits without an arrow? An unheard of record, the one before was 10 hits with one arrow, and that was at an orgy.

Tonight fifty humans had felt the love call just by his presence around this couple, he worked as an amplifier of loving emotions, and he was collecting the windfall of love energy straight into his magic pouch. It could be possible that tonight, he would be finally free of his curse.

They were naturals, and with Cupid's presence each feeling was magnified to the extreme. They would be married come this time next year, and he knew exactly where he would spend his next Valentines Day, around their presence, and he would bring his first born along, the one he was planning to make tonight.

Oh yes, he was going to lock his goddess inside his cloud fortress and shag her rotten, or better said, non-stop for at least 45 days. Psyche, the most beautiful and jealous creature, would be his once again, tonight. The prospect made him happy all over, and later when the clock would hit midnight, even more. He had been right to follow this hot witch, a great hunch.

Never mind that she was one delicious snack, but this was no time for bad thoughts. He had a very hot Goddess who was his, on his own right. Besides, that was the way he got in trouble to start with. It was a bad idea to fall in love with a powerful female, they had a way to punish you for thousands of years, and he knew more than one male victim to a jealous Goddess. Not fair when human females were so delicious. Not an issue, he would never stray again; it was just not worth it.

The short dance

The music started playing; it was a slow, romantic song that neither one of the magical couple knew, a sigh of annoyance could be heard when the couple, who stood up and seemed to be leaving, turned back around, stepped onto the small dance rectangle and embraced to the slow song.

His arms went around her, other dancers kept their distance from them. They felt forbidden to be around the couple, besides they made others feel inadequate. However, Viktor and Hermione still thought they were alone; their eyes were closed, and were transported to the Yule ball, but for a second. Alas, the reality of their bodies was too intense.

He held each other in the old fashioned way, and he held her hand to his heart. Hermione could feel his hand as it trembled and the beating of his heart, just as when they were sitting. Strangely, the blood pumping felt erotic to her muddled brain. As for Viktor, he could feel her hardened nipples against his chest. He wasn't sure what music was playing, and didn't dare kissing her; the reason was simple, because he was sure that he wouldn't be able to stop.

He spoke in her ear. "Do you remember on my bed, the first day ven I touched your flover," he asked with a gravelly voice. The visual of her legs barely opened for him to look, as she trembled in both fear and lust, send a stream of desire into his already to aroused groin area, which in turn made him shiver and hold her tighter unto him.

"Yes, I remember, and looking at you, eyes semi-closed, and seeing your, you, your body, and, and—" Her voice had left her, she wanted him, now, "Viktor, I want you, do you?" she swallowed and pressed his hand.

He tried to answer, nothing came out. He stopped dancing; everyone had already left the floor. The tension at the place had increased to a fever pitch.

It was lucky for Gaston, when Viktor, just offered his hand to Hermione and whispered,

"Let's go, your room or mine?

"Mine, it has private lift, "it was her answer. His mouth twisted in sort of a smile; they must be neighbors, what were they doing wasting time? They should have left after the kiss.

Gaston, relieved, waved them good bye, he knew the routine with Ms. Granger's tab, charge it to the room, plus 30 percent tip.

Suddenly with the tension gone, but the spirit of love remaining, singles were paring up. Cupid was right, he had cashed in. He could hear the cashing –cashing of the love registers. He left the small pouch that would catch all the love within millions of miles, with a super high concentration point.

All he needed was to fire one arrow at the high point, and YAY, he had it cinched. From his invisible place, he danced a little Native American victory dance, with the bow and the arrow up in his hands.

However, he wanted bonus points, the couple's first encounter might be enough to break the long enchantment, and the punishment of the jealous Psyche as recommended by the cunning Venus, his mother. He would still be the cherub once a year, but he was tired of nappies and only oral sex without benefits for him.

He wanted good old time shag, and he was going to get one, make it one hundred. Oh, yes, he was.

'Psyche, my love, you had better taken a 500 year nap, because you are going to need it my little love. Here comes your beautiful god.' He thought, and remembered Venus his progenitor, ''Mother dearest, MYOB. Go and shag your poor husband and get a life.'

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A/N

Next, we will follow the couple that has waited for nine years. I would say a very long wait.


	5. Finally together

**Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. I do not get paid for this writing.

F_inally back, this is the end of the road, or maybe. This story is also dedicated to the one witch who has been a good friend and also inspiration, Savva_

_Warning: This chapter contains graphic situation better suited for adult readers. If this is not your thing, or you are underage, please heed the warning, Rated: M, or NC-17._

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**Finally together**

Viktor pressed Hermione against the wall of the small lift. "Mimi, I vant you, do you?"

"Yes, yes, I want you, maybe more than you do me. " She spoke in a guttural sexy voice, wrapping a leg around his thigh to increase the contact. Viktor growled just about the time lift opened at the penthouse.

She wasn't the scared virgin any longer; it was a good thing, Venus goddess of love.

She stopped in front of room 10001, "Mine," she pointed.

"Mine, 1002," he chuckled.

"Mine?" She asked although she preferred her room because the logistics would be easier.

Out of Room 1004 came Igor Karkaroff. He was meeting Viktor at the pub; he liked the brews as well.

Shit oh shit, he forgot Igor, and he knew how mad he was whenever he was stood up. And tomorrow they were playing; he knew the rules, abstain from sex for two days before the game.

Surprisingly, his coach just waved him goodbye. Shaking his head, he dismissed Viktor, letting him go to score with the super hot-girl. His life had been hell for several years now, let him have a break. All the way towards the lift he kept thinking, she looks so familiar, where?

He stopped before he opened the lift, to think. Once, he turned around and looked straight at her. The couple froze waiting for a reaction. Viktor knew Igor was against shagging the nights before a game, what bad luck. Tonight they were having a few brews in the small Belgium glasses. For Igor that was the extent of a fun night. And that is why he had brought a book, because Igor would be gone in less than one hour.

Karkaroff was thinking that maybe this was the one; he was tired of Viktor's mopping around. He often wondered if he should have let him go for the very young witch he had wished to marry, way back then at Hogwarts. It wouldn't have been unheard of.

He remembered, Viktor wanted to marry, and the young witch had agreed. He imagined they wanted to have sex, and she wouldn't do it unless she was married. They would hide it until she had finished school. She wanted to go to university, and they had planned their lives.

It could have happened had he talked to his parents. Instead, he had told his parents she was a Mudblood, it had been so wrong of him, and when he talked to them later, they wouldn't listen to him.

What a brave young witch she had been. The night when Voldemort had caught him and was torturing him to kill him as a traitor and spy, the brave witch and her two friends, saved him from a certain death, and had hidden him until the war was over claiming he was dead. Oh well, that chance had long ended. He had heard her two friends had bonded with her, poor Viktor.

He took the lift and left. His brain, still searching for the identity of the hot woman hanging all over Viktor and soon gave up with a big smile. He hadn't seen him that happy since the Granger girl, and he would make sure to do whatever it took to make it up to Viktor.

Hermione and Viktor both laughed with great relief when Igor finally moved on.

Xooxxoo

Cupid also leaned against the wall, sweat wetting his brow. The three fates must be around pulling his leg. "Damned old witches," he whispered, but not to loud, he wasn't that brave.

No joke, Venus often partied with them, and it was not uncommon for them to stay around him during Valentine's Day, to report to his mother. What was up with his mother, the Goddess of Love, nope, the Goddess of revenge upon faithless males, as if she was a paragon of virtue? Where did she think he had inherited the unfaithful, shag-everything-that-moves gene?

The door to room 1001 opened and a few seconds later closed. Cupid decided to be polite and sat by the door ready to catch the love energy that was sure to come. No sense in being a pervy when the real thing was only a few hours away.

xxxooxx

No sooner than the door closed, their eyes were surveying each other from head to toe and shyness came upon them. For an instant, Hermione wanted to change her mind, however Viktor sensed her hesitance with his seeker's feelers; he was catching his golden piece tonight and never letting it go. Nope, the gentleman was now a shark, he took and gave but did not let go easy.

"Mimi, my love, come, I vant you. Please." He pleaded in a husky voice, pulling her by the hand towards the bedroom of the large suite. Meanwhile, he pulled off his jumper and was slipping out his shoes; he wanted to get ready and convey his intentions. She just walked away, breathing heavily, and her heart thumping out her chest.

They both undressed down to their undergarments. Hermione was trembling and feeling shy all of a sudden. He looked at her red, stretch lace and silk, barely there pieces, and could not stop a groan, "The sexiest Mimi, ever."

She looked at him, assessing him. Gods, she now remembered he was big, it might hurt. He had boxer underpants, and she remembered, he thought Muggle jeans were itchy.

Hermione's eyes feasted on Victor, he was truly beautiful, much taller than Ron, and definitely than Harry, his body hard, not an inch of fat, and he hardly had any body hair, which had surprised her when they had gone swimming. But from the waist down, she remembered blushing.

His prick was outside of the top of the boxers, he was as ready as she was, judging by the glistening head and the throbbing thru the cloth.

Viktor pulled out his wand to whisper a contraceptive charm, she pulled his arm, "No, I am on the potion, it is ok." She hated lying but this wasn't the time to bring up others into the room.

He picked her up on his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Both cried at the same time, at feeling their partially clad bodies holding each other.

He lowered her just above his erection. They both held their breaths. He could feel her moist heat and her entrance, only separated by two layers of cloth.

He thought better, "Mimi, I'm not sure I can vait, but I have vished to taste you for years."

He gently laid her on the bed, just on the edge. Accio a couple pillows, for under his knees, after he spread her legs gently, he kneeled in front of her. Their eyes on each other, her hands caressing his arms, his chest, wherever she could reach.

"Please let me," he moved his hand and moved the bottom of her knickers, and let his fingers feel his way into her.

"My luf, my Mimi, "She was so warm, so wet, Merlin, he wanted to be inside of her. At feeling inside of her with his fingers, she arched her body and raised his hips towards him.

"I luv your red knickers, but better without them." Using his wand which laid next to him, he casted "Divesto," and their undergarments were gone.

He blinked as if he couldn't believe she was there, "You are even prettier than before."

His head bent between her thighs, and he breathed her in. A small whimper made her smile and sent her on fire at the same time.

His nose sank on her, the tip of his tongue barely touching. Both shuddered at the sensation. He passed his tongue carefully tasting every inch, she giggled at the feeling, but quit when his tongue surrounded her clit and pulsated around while his finger sunk inside her.

He suddenly pulled back, before she could come, "I cannot, I vill come, and want to be inside of you. There vill time later," a smile that didn't form once his eyes looked at her breasts. Her nipples were larger he remembered, quite bigger, but she was now a woman.

One hand reached her breasts, caressed them with his knuckles and fingers, very gently, they seemed to be tender. Yes, maybe it was close to her menses, he remembered from his last girlfriend.

He bent his head to reach her breasts with his mouth, his cock hard on her thigh, near her entrance.

The pulsing hardness, wet and hot, made her press her hips even closer. Her body bent upwards to reach him.

He tasted both of her nipples but hardly more than a cursory pass, her heat called him, beckoning him, inviting him to sink his flesh inside hers.

"Mimi, I cannot vait, please," his fingers lowered, he straightened his body, he guided her hand to line him up into her, his eyes moving from her to their near joining. He bent to kiss her again, his mouth upon hers.

Sloppy, wet, desperate kisses, then to kiss each nipple, his prick's large head barely inside.

"So tight, I don't vant to hurt you, vanted these years…"

A distant voice spoke. "You won't, please, I need you, come here." She held on to him, her hand on his nipples, pinching, rubbing him, making him hiss and groan with passion, and with the hand close to his prick, she ran her nails along his length, making it throb.

"No, don't, no now, too much." She heard him said, and then, "Help me, so."

She closed her hand around him, and he bent his head, wanting to look, yet, finally, the need was too intense. Her limber legs climbed and wrapped around his waist, with her heels right on his bum and she pulled herself right above his raging cock.

She just nodded her head, waiting wasn't an option, her body was burning, and yes, she loved kisses, caresses, slow play, and wanted to know him better, however right at the moment all she wanted was to be filled by him and to feel loved.

He moved his hand and once again let his fingers feel his way into her. His arms lifted her torso to kiss her. They were still for a moment, mouth gasping from want.

He was just in, and they both moaned loud. The moment she felt his hardness just inside her, her body shook with orgasm from her intense desire.

Viktor could not even breathe. He pushed a little more in, and his head went towards the back. His legs were shaking. He looked at her hardened nipples and extended his hand to touch them again. She moaned, gods he was large, but, then, he was large all over.

She moaned loud and," Darn, silencing charm, now."

"Later," he had no idea where his wand was.

The rest was hazy in his mind and also in hers. Outside, Cupid was collecting the energy released. The two inside had very powerful magic, and there was something about the witch that was unusual. He prepared his arrow, and yes it was about time.

He called for silence to give them privacy; they had become his favorite couple.

Viktor wanted to look at her face as he sunk his cock deep inside of her, to guess her feelings from her expression. He understood that he wasn't going to last, and that was ok. He could just do it again in a few more minutes.

They kissed and touched, hands exploring up and down, so much skin, a tactile feast. No more waiting, he thrust at once and screamed from the pleasure consuming him. Her tight walls surrounded, encased his flesh tightly. Her slick channels were all around him, pulsating, massaging, breaking him in two, as his hips thrust forward, and trying to establish a rhythm.

He was telling her how much he had always loved her, not sure in what language.

"Mimi, Her-my-nee," oh Merlin, what was she doing to him. He was thrusting too hard and was going to hurt her, but slowing down wasn't something he could do.

"I need to come, too hard, sorry."

As if she had guessed, "Viktor, more, it is ok, no more pain, more, please touch me, more."

She could feel the begging of a new wave, and the contraction pressed hard on his cock Viktor thought he was being crushed, painful yet it brought him much pleasure.

Thoughts circled his mind, his being was lost in a world of love and pleasure, _so slick, too tight, too much_, and he didn't want to stop, never stop.

Hermione loved his face at that moment. The head backwards, eyes hooded, the lips barely opened, his muscles straining, "Oh, god, again," and both were crying their feelings together. His hips were thrusting wildly, flesh against flesh, slapping, "Mimi, Viktor," their calls, their need, their urgency. Kisses, bites, licks, it was all mixed in a blur of something beyond what he knew.

Her orgasms felt strange, very intense, and she was somehow aware of his frenetic movements, of the urgent touching. In fluid motions, not slowing down, he held her tight and bent backwards, just a little farther and looked down at their joining. With the Muggle lighting, he could see it perfectly.

She was nearly bare, beautiful; he must be the one coming in and out of her. This was the most erotic sight of his entire life. Instrumentus was glistening with her moisture, her juices, fuck, he was getting harder.

He pulled nearly out, just barely outside, licking his lips, looked at her, "Cannot believe, my flover, your, sex is, so, beautiful, I am inside you." His speech was slow with pants in between the forced blurred words.

"Princess, my luf, now, now," he felt the pressure building right up his sex, along with his body tightening and her body arching and convulsing.

The pleasure started at his spine, a creature with sharp teeth, that pleasured and hurt on his travel down towards his groin; and then he was very hard, harder, he barely controlled his movements and could heard himself saying something, her orgasm on the way out, the seed spilling, burning on its way out, and all went dark for some seconds.

He was floating in darkness with his witch next to him. And there was another form next to them, probably his imagination.

He came back from wherever he had bee and was lying covering her, he was partially hard, and still inside of her; she was kissing his shoulder and rubbing his head, and her fingers combing his hair. He was sure this had been more than normal sex, or love making.

He knew of sex magic, and was aware it burned high for pairs, although it was uncommon. It usually required great training, along with the participation of more than two people because of the energy to be generated. Whatever it had been, he hoped it happened again.

She had also lost some seconds; she surely had felt when she had left her body. It was a strange sensation.

She was still throbbing, "Viktor, I never stopped loving you, why was I so blind? This isn't the sex speaking for me, and I am sure I will regret saying it, but I must, I love you. I'm not sure how this is possible, I know my other feelings, they are still there, but I also know that I love you."

She wished for Harry sharing this moment, for a minute she thought he was there with them. No matter, she loved Viktor and had always done so.

His eyes were misty with tears, only witches cried, but his fear of loosing her had returned and it scared him."My luf, I never stopped, I love you. Do you vant to be my wife?"

"As soon as I can, I am still married, but it is over, you might have read in the papers. Poor Gaston he witnessed a nasty drama, " her lip was quivering, a sure sign she was about to cry.

"Mimi, don't break my heart." He begged her."Vat if you choose Potter or Vesley, then what? Do you have children? If so they are also mine. My oldest sister, Ana, is from my mum's first veding, her husband vas killed, and Ana is my father's favorite. Children are a gift." He was very scared, he had forgotten about the men in her life.

He did remember the invitation, Potter, Weasley and Granger. "Ven can we marry, it isn't too soon, nine years waiting is a long time. I know an old bonding, will you repeat with me? It's not marriage, a promise."

Then jokingly, but half serious, "I cannot like Vesley he is an oaf, nasty. I see him, I shouldn't say, yes I say, he didn't honor his vife. I see him with many, sorry, I am bad for saying. Potter, I vill adopt him. Yes, he can be other son, he is not tall; or second husband, but I am first, yes?"

She laughed, "Never again Viktor, will I leave you. If you want to call a promise, we can, even an unbreakable. I have missed you for years now, and life had just started again. We will repeat it but not a bond. It is too soon to make plans; there are things you must know first. Later, tomorrow in a couple of days," she saw fear cross his eyes again. She wanted this night just for them, silly Bulgarian.

"Please trust me, we will soon bond, but not here, not now, right now I am planning to know you from your head to your toes, with many places to stay in between. It is a big field to explore, and during my excursion I want to make a naughty wizard scream with joy."

She looked at him invitingly; she grabbed his large hand and put his index finger in her mouth, as if it was a lollipop, and then licked his hand.

Viktor didn't catch all of that, he already knew her, and wasn't sure how exploring a field would make him scream with joy, he laughed nevertheless. Life was good, and it was about to get better. And what she was doing to his fingers made his eyes cross.

Outside, stood a tall very beautiful man, a short band of cloth around his hips, and a large smile that wouldn't quit. He had a very small quiver of arrows and a tiny hunting bow in his hand. He snapped his fingers.

"At your service, lovely Miss Granger, whenever you need me, all you have to do is call. I have left you a present; you will find it when you need it. When you find it this message will repeat. I used to wear a nappy, one that my child will wear in nine months from now, leave or take. If it is a girl it will be named after you."

And, POOF, he was gone. Some place in another realm, an unsuspecting goddess was about to receive an unexpected visitor. She had quit observing and dreading his return, and had gone to sleep.

He had left Hermione an invisible present made out of pure gold and jewels. It had materialized when the curse broke, if she touched it, it would make their love always right, and if she just called him he would come. How could her life go wrong when Love was on her side?

* * *

**The end? Maybe, it could be. If there is not an interest in this last chapter, we can say all will be well. And let good enough stay so.**

**If not, there can be two or three more short chapters after this. I wrote this extended version from a shorter story for a writing Fest, and it ended right here. Or I could say this is not the end, I still have not made them suffer enough, just kidding. I had several requests for Gaston story; I will do one a one shot, soon.**

**I am in the process of finishing several of my fictions to dedicate most of my writing time to Malfoys and their mates.**

Reviews are manna they taste delicious, however strawberry ice cream tastes better.


	6. The day of the morning after

Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. the story is mine

Revisited by request: your reviews as usual make my day better and let me know what else needs to get done.

Warning: Scenes of mature content or a commonly names of citrus quality.

**The saga continues.**

**The morning after-**

Hermione woke up sweating, her covers were heavy and very hot, when she tried to lose them, the cover became alive and held her tighter. "You aren't going anyvere, the Bulgarian found his love, and she stays with him."

She remembered and laughed, "Your body is very warm, I guess I won't need blankets around you."

No answer, he was no longer paying attention and was busy kissing her back after moving her hair to the side. She opened one eye to see him leaning in one arm busy caressing her bum and taking care of her backside.

"Hmm, I need to use the loo badly, something I ate last night, or I didn't eat, that was it I forgot to eat, quick," she dashed to the bathroom forgetting she was naked and was sick at the toilet for a few minutes. Her stomach was empty and she needed to eat, food made it a little better. Damn, damn, damn, she had been right.

"Mimi, are you well, let me in, silly duck, let me in," He brought his wand and "Alohomora," upon seeing her on the floor, took her in his arms, helped her by the sink to brush her teeth, and carried her back.

"Goose, is the word with silly, not a duck," this was something he would never get, he just shrugged his shoulders.

He called room service and told them to be there within minutes, or he was going down himself. Went back to get a wet cloth and was worried to see her so pale.

He didn't ask any questions and was afraid to do so. Happily, she felt better after eating. He needed to go to practice and ask her to go with him. While she was getting ready she found the gold pendant, and it glowed when she touched it, it was beautiful. A man's voice came out the pendant when she picked up and touched the front." Always wear it, and just call if you shall need me. Thanks for setting me free." She could feel the good magic flowing out of it.

**The rest of the day of the morning after-**

**The call-**

She had stayed while Viktor practiced once her stomach acted up again. Viktor left with great reluctance; he wanted to stay worried about her.

She had regretted turning him down more than once, actually many times throughout the years, and frequently since her Belgium arrival. The regret worsened during the past year after finding out of all the witches and wizards Ron had shagged since day one.

Harry hid it from her because of his loyalties, and whose allegiance until the recent events went to Ron. She might have understood if he was in love with Ron, they weren't in a sexual relation; and not for Ron's lack of trying, he shagged anything put in front of him. She recalled Ron's words, "Sex is sex, I am a sophisticated player," at least, that was his own label.

As for Ginny, she hadn't fair well. She had first cheated on Neville with Harry, or wanted to because Harry just watched her make out with another player, and Harry didn't count that as cheating. Neville had bounced back with Hannah and would soon be married.

She had head that Ron was unbearable because sex was no longer an option.

As for her, she was hiding a big secret, from everyone including herself. She was having signs which had dismissed till today. Then, maybe not from herself, if one would consider she had stayed-off drinking since a month ago or longer. First, she needed to verify her suspicions, and then she needed to talk to someone first.

"Gaston, I need a gigantic favour, I need you to call a cell phone for me…"

She sat at the back, the place was practically empty and she looked all around, just some business men here and there, although she couldn't see all the faces nobody was looking at her. She wonder why she couldn't shake the feeling she was being observed, it had been the case for a few days, probably paranoia.

"Here Miss Granger, he sounds very excited you called him. " He also hoped for Harry Potter, too bad, he, Gaston wasn't on the run.

"Hermione, I cannot believe you are calling me, did you get my Valentine's present? I wasn't too sure how to send something to a Muggle place."

"No, I didn't, but if it was something like flowers or such, I can help." She laughed," I guess I sound anxious to collect my presents."

"You sound so good, I desperately miss you. I am not pressing you had just want to tell you. I moved out the house, and moved into a small flat while I renovate the old home, Grimmauld." His voice was expectant.

Harry had done it; life couldn't be that generous to her.

"Mimi, are you there?" he was afraid she had hanged up.

"I am here I am just in awe, why did you do that?"

"Because it was the right thing to do, and I was an idiot for waiting for so long. I know that I was afraid of the Weasleys, afraid to cut my lifeline to them. As it turns out the ones who I trusted, they are still my friends. Ginny is turning in a bit of a problem, but I can handle that. I have been to counselling with of those new Mental Health healers, and I need to apologize to you. I did cheat by watching them; it amounts to some of the same."

Hermione shook the phone, someone was pulling her leg. "Ah, "that was all she said.

"Ron is mental, he screams and carries on. I am sorry to tell you that he is spreading all types of ugly rumours, even worse once he figured out he cannot even be touched without being in pain."

He was laughing and Hermione had to join him, "He went to the healer to see if he had a curse, and of course he doesn't. He found traces of an unknown magic, but he said we can all pick it up as we move around magical people." He stopped to hear her laughter it made him happy to hear the joy in her voice.

"Your friend comes in handy, maybe one to consider for an idea I have for the future. I am getting out Quidditch, I want to find a good job or open a firm. I have been talking to Bill, and I will tell you later. Sorry for talking so much, but it is great sharing my life with you. Why did you call?"

Hermione was so happy listening to all the news that she forgot the matter at hand."Harry, I have some news, but before I said anything, I haven't been to the healer yet. I am pregnant, it is for sure. I don't know whose, or maybe both, after all you use that charm we were given before. Don't tell Ron, not yet."

Her voice was tinged with concern and apprehension. She sat in the darken room chewing an imaginary hangnail, waiting for his response.

Harry had stopped breathing; his heart did a summersault and hoped the child was his. "I am so happy and sorry for the deceit, it wasn't right. The temptation was too much, I wanted you back; I love you and cannot stop thinking about you, the last time I—. There I go, pressuring." He chuckled and sounded a little bitter.

"You are not pressuring. By, why haven't you called me?"

He was silent, "I was afraid to hear you would tell me you hated me. I have called Gaston two or three times per week to inquire about you. And Gaston has been very nice letting me know you are fine. That was all I wanted to know. I must tell you, please be careful, Ron is acting strange, but I might be wrong. Can Gaston release whatever he did; it is for everyone's peace of mind." Harry knew he shouldn't ask.

"I am not sure I want him to go unpunished. He treated me with little care, and I do blame him for the babies. They were your babies as well." Each word was full of sorrow.

"I know, sorry for being insensitive, I told Bill, and he wants me to tell his parents. Ron might have told them you have something really awful. He wants to pre-empt whatever you have to say." He didn't want something bad happen to her and for an unknown reason Ron was worrying him.

She was quiet and felt bad all of sudden, she wanted to hang up but first, "Harry, if it is your baby, how do you want to this? When I called you I thought you were holding your front about Ron."

"I told you what I would want in general. I want and wish for another chance. I know is asking for too much. I don't blame if you don't want to." His voice was breaking.

Hermione was now entirely confused, she was sure of her feelings for Viktor, and sadly her heart was still Harry's, it always had been, she needed to tell him, but first she looked all around, nobody was looking at her but she felt rather uncomfortable.

"Harry, this is going to sound rather strange, where is Ron, these days?" she waited with bated breath.

"He is here, we are practicing right now, why has he bothered you? Gaston hasn't—"he shouldn't have said that.

"Gaston is looking out for me? You told him?" She asked, and he was afraid to answer.

"I know it was wrong of me, but I don't trust him. So, yes, I pay Gaston a little money to watch over you. Not a spy, he doesn't do that."

"Thanks darling, it is the sweetest thing you have done, thanks." Harry was flummoxed at her reaction. "Before you said anything, there is something you must know," her voice was hesitant, and he worried she had found someone, but it was her own fault.

"I saw Viktor yesterday, it was purely coincidental, and we are thinking of a future together, you see I never stopped loving him. I am sorry for sounding so fickle but you knew of my feelings for him. I also haven't stopped caring about you. I think we should talk in person when I know more about the baby." She wanted to run and hide, her heart rate had increased, her hands trembled, and the nausea was intense.

"Hermione, I hope you will consider me in whatever decision you make. I like Viktor, "he asked tentatively. " If it were my child, I would want to live close by at the very least."

He had no idea how he was helping his cause by not pressing the issue; Hermione didn't want to be bullied or pressured into a decision.

"Something is bothering me, why did you ask about Ron, I know you too well." Harry didn't want to discus Viktor any longer.

"Not sure, I feel I am being watched, and it is not very friendly." Now he knew.

"Please tell Gaston, and if you would allow me, I would like to look into it." Harry wanted to see her, when she looked up Viktor was entering the place.

"Harry, I must go and will call you soon. I'll talk to Gaston presently, much love, bye." She spoke softly and his heart lifted with her last words.

"Take very good care. I love you. "

**The gentle Wizard**

She just hanged up as Viktor reached her. "My love, you look great. How about a bite to eat, and maybe to the room, I couldn't play thinking about you, "He leaned and kissed her softly but with purpose.

"I have a better idea," she leaned on him and bit his ear, "first to the room and then get something to eat?" She wanted him right then, and he nodded his assent now that desire had taken over him.

"Let me talk briefly to Gaston, I will meet you, up in my room. Maybe move your things now?"

"Sure I need to pack a few things. Don't take long, my hunger cannot wait." He kissed her softly and left.

She reached Gaston, they talked about Harry, and being watched, he started looking all around.

"Everyone here is a traveller and you are one of the only one who has stayed over the longest whom I know of, you are in one of two long term apartments. I will look around, and I am off school for a few weeks, I will escort you when you go out. I will get paid for that. "They both smiled, it was better to know and now she could freely access him

Viktor.

He had earlier Apparated to Gringotts and they had obtained an item from his vault. He looked at the box, a ring he bought Hermione when he was eighteen, but first he needed to have her. He undressed and waited for her on top of the sheets.

Hermione was almost afraid to get into the lift, there was another person, a non-descript business man who didn't even look at her.

He went into his room 1015 almost at the opposite end, and he didn't even look once. She breathed in relief and entered the room, and heard the man greeting someone before his door closed.

"Where are you?" she called, maybe he hadn't arrive yet, but he had her keys since he wanted to move in her room, they had a second set.

She took off her shoes, when she saw one of his shoes and a rose petal, there was a trail of rose petals and clothes leading into the bedroom, she smiled and at the same time her mind went to mud.

She stopped and undressed to her knickers and her soft corset, a set she had bought in France all hand made and extravagant. It had small jonquils embroidered all over, it had the matching knickers, sexy yet comfortable, lately most fabrics felt wrong.

What she saw in the bed made her body go in flames, Viktor was kneeling on the bed, with a rose in one hand and a small box in the other. Not a stitch of clothing, and well, he was feeling just as she was, his arousal pulsating and ready for her. He couldn't wait in the bed and dropped the box and rose and was by her side in, she wasn't sure how they got back to the bed, her corset came off, and his mouth went hungrily around one nipple, while his hand played with her other breast. All while moaning and whispering words in Bulgarian, so soft she couldn't hear let alone understand.

He laid her upon the pillows, and put her leg on his shoulders and not taking his eyes away from her, his lips barely touched her swollen labia, "I've wanted to this since I met you at the library, I vas always so hard thinking about it that that I couldn't even hear what you were saying. I run to loo and take care right there, no good. Ven we kissed, and you'd let me touch your thigh, I would cry inside my head knowing what was near there. However, I didn't want to take you unless we were married. I so wished we had been married and had babies. Enough talking, by Eros you smell better than…" his voice trailed. She would later notice his English was improving fast.

She was so worked up that as his tongue touched the inner labia she had an orgasm, and he muttered the words, she realized he wasn't speaking in Bulgarian and noticed his hand in the midst of her pleasure and couldn't react. She saw magic streams around them. What had he done, sneaky devil.

She wanted to ask, and at that moment his mouth put her inside a haze of pure pleasure.

He laid his head on her thigh much later, "Viktor, love, what did you do, you conjured wandless, it was an incantation in Latin but you spoke so low I couldn't hear the words. I know you feel afraid I am going to go away, now you have taken that chance away even if you want to once I talk to you."

"Mimi, before you speak, please," he looked all over the bed, and found the rose that had been enchanted and was in one piece, he kneeled on the bed, and she thought he was truly a lovely wizard, not beautiful as Harry, his nose and features were too masculine, the nose too sharp, but there was something sensual and powerful about him.

"Would you accept my ring? I bought it with the money from my first Quidditch year. I had hoped to marry you. "She opened the box, it was beautiful. A large yellow diamond in a thick band engraved with runes.

"You had this for eight years?" Her body was cold and she shivered. He nodded his head overcome by emotion.

She kneeled along with him, put her arms around his neck, and they kissed long and lovingly.

"Yes, yes, I will be proud. But you must hear me first, after you tell me what you did."

At least she wasn't mad; he decided it was best not to lie, "The bond, it only requires that you freely accepted me in your bed. Since I was the only one to pronounce the words, you will be able to feel me when I think of you, and if I am in trouble. It was for the men when they left to fight in a war. The down side was their wife knew when he was dead and vice versa. It only works if there is true love. You can bond to me venever you wish. Mimi, I love you and I'll be here ven you are ready."

She held him very tight, "I promise you on my witch's honour, I will marry you as soon as possible, if you still want me after you hear me."

"Tell me," he was calmer after extracting her promise.

"I am pregnant," she looked at him.

"I knew something vas there with us last night. Is that vhy you don't bond, you want Harry and the sorry oaf?" He was now visibly disturbed, talking too fast, and combing his hair

"No, please listen…" and she finished telling him her life in a nutshell, starting from the last time they saw each other. His jaw clenched and was ticking when she told him about the babies; he sat her onto his lap as if she was a baby and covered her with the deck.

"I knew it. I saw the oaf vith many witches and wizards, and Potter often seemed upset. I cannot promise that I'm not going to hurt him. He must be, how do you say, decapitated, not that is the head," he looked at her for assistance.

"The word is castrated, and you won't anything of the sort. Why get in trouble because of him. What I am going to do if I am having a Weasley baby?"

"Raise the baby as a Krum and not as a Vesley, not as his, only fathers should raise children, and he has behaved badly. I will make him please let me."

"I must think—don't know. I don't want him back in my life, it will be a torment. Harry is worried because Ron is acting _strange._" At the mention of Harry, a heave cloud surrounded Viktor.

"You love Potter, yes? You haven't said anything bad about him, mad but nothing bad." Hi long face torn with stress and defeat.

* * *

A/N Oh, oh, what is wrong with Hermione, is she daft or something? Or maybe we just worry about nothing? Stay tuned.


	7. Oh where or where has she gone

JKR owns the HP characters

**Oh where or where has the Witch gone?**

**Nearly three months later- April 30**

The compact sized, yet muscular barman at the posh beer-bar was relating a story to Karkaroff, who was now the trainer of a new international Quidditch team.

Karkaroff was looking for answers to help his best player and friend, Viktor Krum. Gaston told him all he knew, Harry had told him it was ok to do so. He started with the incident the year before, when her then husbands came to look for her.

Viktor was a wreck and had not been able to play for nearly five weeks; it had been that long since his fiancée, the lovely witch Miss Hermione Granger, nee Weasley-Potter had disappeared. Foul play was suspected and there were those who thought she had been kidnapped; however, neither a trace of Hermione had been found nor had anyone asked for ransom money. She just seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Viktor and Hermione were expected to be married soon. Although hey had planned an intimate ceremony. Nothing much was known, no details, except for rumors about Harry Potter and a triad.

The day she went missing she had gone back to England to finalize her divorce. Apparently, she had been pregnant and still working for the U.K. Ministry of Magic but at Brussels, in a foreign assignment. It involved the placement and relocation of magical children orphaned and displaced during the last war.

Viktor had waited at their flat they had just leased, but she never arrived at her final destination, nor did she go back home to Viktor.

At the Ministry of Magic's portal, they had no record of Miss Granger arriving that day. There was a transfer; she had stopped at Paris to buy some clothes, and she never took the second part of the travel.

Potter, who had quit Quidditch for good, was also looking for Miss Granger, and all his alibis checked. Her other soon to be ex-husband, had accused her of trying to get out of some kind of contract. He had given an interview to reporter, and during the course of the interview he stated that he hadn't signed the divorce papers. Moreover, he ascertained that only Harry Potter had and he didn't concur.

Ron had conveniently omitted that Harry's signature was enough to grant the triad's dissolution, and that Harry was fully supporting her position.

Karkaroff was more than a little displeased with Ron and he asked some more questions. Finally he asked, "Gaston do you have any articles? I have not read everything."

"I have been saving all the papers; Mr. Weasley nearly killed Mr. Potter during the interview last week when he showed up without an invitation. Check the pictures, and I will you read one article of interest." Gaston dropped a large stack of papers.

"Mr. Harry Potter stated, "_Ron has been abusive for a long time and Hermione has been a good and faithful wife. As a matter of fact, it wasn't until we separated, and not before, when she started seeing Viktor Krum. She even told both of us about Viktor. We have done much worse than that; I am ashamed to say that I have committed sins of omission."_

Mr. Potter paused to move a couple of seats away from Mr. Weasley who had turned belligerent. He continued once he was out his friend's reach.

_"As far as Ron's statement that Hermione killed our babies, I would say it was the other way around. I wish he hadn't brought this up. The truth is that it was probably an accident but he was at a fault for what happened. Hermione and I still love each other and that concludes my statement."_

Gaston closed the paper and told Karkaroff, _"_The picture in the Prophet shows Ron firing a hex right on Mr. Potter' face and putting him out for a few hours. The hex nearly blinded him; specialists had been flown from the US, as of today's news is unknown if he will see again."

"What do you think about that fellow, the Weasley wizard?"

And Gaston told him about his memories of last year, in November. Karkaroff was so upset the glass broke in his hand, "Why did Potter allow him, how could he?"

The two idiots were killing Viktor with the way they had treated his witch. He was mad at himself for not helping Viktor marry when he was eighteen. He was certain their marriage would have held.

"Mr. Potter," he said it loud, and Karkaroff turned around. He was more than surprised at what he saw.

"Gaston, good to see you," Harry Potter was not looking well, just as bad as Viktor if not worse. He had heard Igor, and he was right, the entire mess was his fault. He should have taken action.

"Igor, you are right, I was an idiot. A case of misplaced loyalties and even his family is now mad at me. They also think I played a part, I did. I should have killed him. My sight is well, no more glasses, I had a new cornea implanted. Ron wanted to damage me for life. He has lost it."

Harry was quite upset. They had never been divorced albeit she was living with Viktor, and Harry was expected to move with them after the paper work had been completed. They were afraid than Ron would pull a fast one and seemly he had.

"Karkaroff, it is good to see you as well by the way." He shook Igor's hand.

"I see you haven't had success. I haven't seen Viktor in two weeks, but I have owl him. He isn't faring better than you."

"No I haven't," it was Viktor; he should have been in hours before.

"Hello Harry." He sounded tense and upset, "Where is the ass, I want to kill him."

"No need, his mother and brothers took care of that. I have never seen them so angry. Molly has forbidden the entire family to speak to him if they want a mother, and Ginny is not faring better for her part in our marriage problems. "He stopped to ask Gaston for a beer.

"Molly has been crying non-stop since she learned that Hermione had been pregnant with two girls. Arthur has also taken off his job, and he is looking for her. He wants the Aurors to give Ron Veritaserum, but his lawyer is fighting it. He says he has an adverse reaction, and the healer from the Cannons, who is a drunk, signed a statement stating so."

"Why didn't you owl me?" Viktor's voice sounded g was edgy.

"I did, the owl couldn't find your new place."

"Your parents told me the same." Igor told Viktor.

"Igor, please excuse me for not greeting you first," Viktor turned to greet Igor and the older Wizard gave Viktor a big hug.

"Viktor, I am also off we need to find her, tell me what has happened." Igor asked him.

Gaston knew the drill; both Harry and Viktor had been eating the same lunch every time they came; a large Lager, a roast beef with horseradish sandwich, the soup du jour, and frites. He asked Karkaroff for his order, he was having mussels and frites and a bottle of mineral water. Gaston went to call the kitchen.

"On the 15th of February, I took her to see the Witches' Healer. She was pregnant and it was with twins again. She couldn't tell either the sex or the father. She said it was unheard of and the healer had indicated that it was as if she had a shield around the babies to protect them. She asked Mimi if she had casted a protection spell, and she hadn't." Viktor stopped to wipe a tear, he appeared exhausted.

"Then she remembered a medallion she had on. Beautiful work, it showed Eros in a curious pose. Half bowing and offering the medallion to someone, it was made of an alloy I didn't recognize, gold and something. She told us she had found it by her nightstand a few hours before.

When we got back to the hotel, we checked the medallion and found no dark magic. It actually gave you a feeling of wellness, of being protected. I was however concerned and asked her not to wear it again. She was taken it to Bill Weasley to have him check it.

We met with Harry that afternoon and talked about the future plans. We had a problem with Hermione not being able to tell if one of the babies was Ron's or not. We, Harry and I—"

Viktor stopped his story when he saw Igor making faces to him, pointing at Gaston.

"Igor, Gaston works for us. Harry is opening a Detectiving Agency, did I say it right?" he looked at Harry who was smiling along with Gaston.

"Detective Agency, sort of like the Aurors, but private; I guess we are my first client."

A mild smile from all of them, however Karkaroff could sense their pain, and his Death Eater instincts came back, somebody was going to regret what they had done. He had a debt with both Hermione and Harry, and he remembered the Weasley boy fighting over the help they had given him.

"Again, Harry and I decided not to tell anyone she was pregnant with twins until the babies arrived. We wanted to force Ron to let us adopt the baby, if she was carrying one from him. I know it wasn't all correct, but consider what he had done. Harry showed me the memory using a pensive, and we saw when Ron pushed her in anger and quite hard. I suspected that an expert could conclude that he was at fault."

"Viktor, excuse me, I showed the memory to a Healer who went to Hogwarts with us, Molly and Arthur were there. She told us that if Hermione wanted to press charges, she should. Don't be upset, but she compared them with the memories when she was seen at Mungo's;" Harry paused after looking at Viktor.

Viktor's face was dark with anger, and he wondered if he should keep telling him what Bones had said. Viktor made a head sign indicating to continue.

"Anyway, it demonstrates that the push wasn't merely accidental; he actually punched her side pretty hard. Not just with his palm as I had originally thought stated, but with his fist; he had been drinking a lot, and yes, I know that doesn't excuse him. The Weasley have already said if Hermione doesn't press charges they will have him admitted to the new Centre to heal the mind."

"I will kill him with my own hands, drunk or not." Viktor didn't appear to be well.

"It will serve no purpose." Igor told him; he would kill him for Viktor.

"Wait, I remember something, the fifteenth before you came, "Viktor looked at Harry," she told me several times that she thought someone was watching her, I totally forgot."

"I remember, she asked me who stayed in the far-end suite, and I think I checked for her, I can call the reception."

"Yes, I remembered she asked me if I had seen Ron, she actually called me to ask me, I told her I had, he was at practice with me, although he had been sick the day before.

Gaston was back, "There were no guests in the room during the entire year, there was a problem with the room, is has been renovated and it now, once again, open to the public."

"Another false lead, do you think she is alive?" Viktor asked but it wasn't a question.

"What was wrong with the room, why did it take a year to be fixed? Can you check this further?" Harry had a strange feeling.

"What happened the day she went back, and Viktor why didn't you go with her?" Igor asked.

"We had games the entire week, and Harry was meeting her. She did the trip quite often, and this time she had to go to Paris, and then back to England. She went shopping for maternity robes at a shop recommended to her. She bought a lot of clothes for her and the babies, and she sent them via owl to me to me, the same day she disappeared.

I have wanted to go back; I have a question for them. She wrote our room number behind the address scroll with an arrow, but the last number is not well formed. I have it here, wait."

Gaston was back with a man dressed in blue coveralls. "He speaks a little English; he is the maintenance man for the suites."

"Gaston said you had some questions about the suite at the end? That would be 1007, is that the one? "

Neither Harry nor Viktor were sure of the number and Gaston said, "Yes the one at the opposite end of the suite where Miss Granger used to stay."

"You cannot repeat what I am about to tell you, I do it because Miss Granger was a real lady. I went to school in London, my father worked there; and we would talk about London. She had no problems that I worked fixing things around the hotel, a nice lady. Nothing was wrong with the room; it was rented for the entire time Miss Granger was here, about three or four weeks after she came. The ones in there were kind of hmm, scary? An old couple, or they appeared to be an old couple, one day I had to go and do maintenance, and found there were no personal items, nothing, not even a toothbrush_." _He paused and drank the mineral water brought by Gaston.

"I asked the reception if they had moved out, and they said no, they were there, they stopped everyday for coffee and their mail. Two days after she checked out to go with her husband," he pointed at Viktor," the couple left. I was called to assess the damage done to the room. The closets were full of moldy clothes; there were bottles with strange fluids inside, the floor was littered with a lot of feathers, rubbish, and several clothing items I had seen Miss Granger wearing. When I went to report it, and they came back with security, her clothes were gone, and so most of everything. There clothes in the closets but just regular trousers, jumpers, and gowns. "

He looked spooked out, and did a symbol across his forehead and shoulders and chest, some kind of ritual. Viktor pulled out a roll of the new Euros, asked him for his name, address, and gave him his cellular number. The man was called on his interoffice portable, and he was gone.

"Wait," Viktor opened his money bag, and out came an express owl label, "No, this is not a seven," he appeared deflated.

Let me look," Harry asked and Viktor passed him the receipt, "It is an old script seven, Hermione liked it once in while, but that is not an arrow, that is snake, we made it to mean Slytherins, snakes."

"It makes no-sense, she was alone at the store, and I talked to them. I wonder why we didn't discuss this before." Harry wondered aloud.

"We might have except I never made anything about the number behind. I assumed she had written the hotel number and remembered we now had a flat. Were the people in the room wizards, spying on her and why?" Viktor was upset that he forgot about the receipt, something was wrong.

"I think we need to figure out who had the room, and why is the hotel hiding the fact. But I have a way to come undetected, we will talk about it. And we need to go back to Paris. Now, let's eat." Harry proposed.

After eating Harry and Viktor both agree with Igor that it was nap time and they would gather later. Harry and Viktor and Igor left for the flat.

**At the flat**.

"Viktor, may I take a lot at the items Hermione bought that day?" Harry asked.

"Sure, I _Engorgio_ the packages and put them in her wardrobe," they walked together, now that Igor had gone to sleep, their eyes were moist, just talking about her was too much. Both regretted having her travelled alone. They blamed each other, and their own selves. They had lost her over meaningless jobs. Without her money, had no meaning, besides both were financially powerful, and Hermione had been left a nice inheritance by her grandparents.

"Have you been able to locate her parents?" asked Viktor.

"That is the one thing, she had put a memory block on them, and they went to Australia. She went to Australia after the war and removed the charm, but they decided to stay there. They are strange, they were both angry about the block, and didn't come to the wedding. In all these years, we have not met them; she was always alone at the train station." Harry appeared troubled as if he tried to remember something he couldn't.

"It is always been rather mysterious, we teased her that she was parentless, but Minerva told us she had actually met her parents, and I have seen pictures. And there is the flat, the ones her grandparents left her, very posh. I have sent them several pieces of post, and they haven't answered, I figured they are uncaring parents, probably neglected her at the very least." Harry was now looking quite sad.

"I say we go to Australia, we have checked everything else. And we should work together; maybe we can see something the other missed. I am worried, her pregnancy is getting more advanced and—"Viktor's voice broke, and he collapsed and sat on the floor to sob.

Harry offered him his hand. "Viktor, we need to keep our heads together, I know she is alive, I still feel her inside me sometimes; she is trying to say something. I can feel her, I just don't know."

Viktor whipped his tears with the back of his hand and accepted Harry's hand. Upon standing up, Harry pressed Viktor's shoulder with affection, "We need to stay positive, and maybe we are looking at this in the wrong manner. Who was the pair in the suite? Let's nap, I am beat."

They came into their shared room; it had a giant custom-made bed. Harry told Viktor to go to sleep, and he pulled out the shopping boxes. He smiled, Hermione wasn't fond of shopping but when she did, she lost control almost every time.

He started pulling out piece by piece, and his one year Auror training before going for Quidditch came back. If there were pockets, he looked inside of each one. After one hour he was exhausted and frustrated, he was nearly finished, and he looked at the piles and piles of new maternity clothes she wouldn't get to wear, and tears started falling.

Three were also dozens of baby clothes, baby shoes, lotions for the skin, and he was nearly done, and… he was done.

Something nagged him, what? Had he checked inside all the pockets? Yes, only a few clothes had pockets, baby shoes? He used the wand to make sure nothing was concealed in them, in the thin soles.

He kept looking at the strange bras, he picked one up, hmm, they had a flap, he wonder why, he shrugged his shoulder, he would find out, hopefully. There between a flap and the lining a piece of paper, HELP. Written with what? Was it blood? He could hear the roar of his blood. It was badly written, the paper was a piece of a food wrapper, a little oily, a pastry?

He looked farther, it might not be hers. He looked inside all the bras, nothing. He had done this before, however after the _Help_ message, he had hope.

The lotions, he remembered watching a Muggle movie with her about hiding diamonds or something or other inside food, and they had made all kind of jokes. He lined up the three lotions, one was a small bottle, the other two lidded jars; all appeared sealed.

"Viktor, come here." Harry yelled excitedly.

Viktor woke up with his heart ready to explode, and Igor also came running.

They were all excited, inside one of the jars Harry had found two things, a Muggle key to something, and a pendant of some sort. Unfortunely, there were also telltale signs of blood.

"This is the pendant, see Eros?" Viktor said tracing his finger over it.

"We leave for Paris in an hour get ready. Tell Gaston were we are going."

Xox

A/N In the seven books there is actually very little said about her parents. She was a child who never seemed to have gone home.

Reviews are desirable to feed a hungry muse, hope you all like a little mystery.


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